


Sex Beneath the Stars

by shellygurumi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e05 A Life in the Day, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-07 15:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18413519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi/pseuds/shellygurumi
Summary: Both men laid on their backs, hands tucked behind their heads. Looking at the stars became a game, they would make up constellations and tell stories about what they symbolized.Sometimes Eliot would ask Q to tell a story about one he had made up, because Q made up the best stories and Eliot liked listening to his voice. While Q was talking, Eliot rolled up onto his side and gazed at Quentin’s face. He also liked watching the man as he spoke, but he also had another motivation…His hand moved up to Q’s chest, fingertips dancing upward, towards his collar, tugging gently at the fabric of his shirt. Quentin tried to keep telling the story, wanting to finish it before Eliot got the better of him. It had become a game for them when they were feeling randy. See how long the story would last before sex ensued. Q was going to make it to the end this time, he really was.Eliot wasn’t going to let that happen.





	Sex Beneath the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at titles, forgive me XD

There was always so much time to kill in this life. Q and Eliot spent all day working on the mosaic, raising Teddy, living their simple, straightforward lives. Wake up, eat, work on the mosaic, play with Teddy, eat lunch, go for a walk, Teddy’s lessons, more work on the mosaic, dinner, star gazing, bed.

Teddy was 9 and sleeping in the cottage while Eliot and Q laid out on the bed they had built outside. Both men laid on their backs, hands tucked behind their heads. Looking at the stars became a game, they would make up constellations and tell stories about what they symbolized. 

Sometimes Eliot would ask Q to tell a story about one he had made up, because Q made up the best stories and Eliot liked listening to his voice. While Q was talking, Eliot rolled up onto his side and gazed at Quentin’s face. He also liked watching the man as he spoke, but he also had another motivation…

His hand moved up to Q’s chest, fingertips dancing upward, towards his collar, tugging gently at the fabric of his shirt. Quentin tried to keep telling the story, wanting to finish it before Eliot got the better of him. It had become a game for them when they were feeling randy. See how long the story would last before sex ensued. Q was going to make it to the end this time, he really was.

Eliot wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Then the archer…” Q gasped softly when Eliot’s lips began kissing his neck; he swallowed hard. “The archer shot the arrow at the sky…”

A tongue followed, licking the bobbing adam’s apple on Q’s throat. He grinned against Q’s neck and began nibbling.

Quentin moaned softly. “The sky…” 

“Uh-huh..” Eliot held himself up over Q, pressing his body down atop him. “Tell me more…”

“You jerk,” Quentin grinned up at Eliot.

“You love it,” His teasing tone colored his words. He slid his leg in between Quentin’s legs, pressing his thigh against his dick. Eliot caught Q’s next moan with a kiss, pressing their lips together. 

Q raised both hands to twine into Eliot’s hair, holding him close as he returned the kiss. He arched his back, lifting his hips up to meet Eliot’s body. He wanted that friction, that pressure. 

Moans drifted between them, getting caught on the wind and drawn away. They had to stay quiet, so as not to wake their son. That happened once, and they vowed not to let it happen again. Luckily Teddy was too young to know what was going on, just thinking they were playing a game, but it was horrifying enough. 

Now it was practically a game to keep quiet while driving each other wild. Eliot kissed Q hard and deep, taking his breath away. Then he pushed himself up, leaving Q trailing after that kiss, wanting more. He straddled Q’s lap then began undressing him. Eliot was always so thorough, slowly taking Q’s top off, running his hands over his chest, his shoulders, arms. Eliot would love every inch of Quentin. No matter how many times they made love, he always wanted to touch every inch of Q, as if learning his body all over again for the first time. 

It drove Quentin wild, sent shivers all over his body. Made him gasp and moan and ache for more. Every time. Eliot knew exactly where to linger, where to touch feather light, where to press a little harder. Where to bite or lick or nibble.

All the ways to make Q want to moan out loud, but instead he always had to bite his lip, close his eyes and hum out instead. Little whimpers were Eliot’s favorite. When he tried so hard to keep the moans in and nearly failed. Eliot grinned as he nipped at one of Q’s nipples and Q threw his head back.

“El…” Q’s hand was planted firmly in Eliot’s hair, fingers clenching. “Fuck…” He whispered the words, breathless and panting.

Eliot’s tongue swirled around the nipple he had been biting. Then his head traveled down lower. His hands made their way to Q’s pants, quickly undoing them and getting his lover naked.

Q lifted his hips and let Eliot undress him. He sat up and began pulling Eliot’s clothes off. He wanted their bodies pressed together, unhindered by clothing. Once they were both naked, Eliot lowered Q back down onto the bed beneath the stars. Q’s legs spread apart, letting Eliot in between them and he hooked one over El’s hip. 

They kissed again as as Eliot lowered himself down onto Q. Hands were everywhere, Q was holding Eliot’s face, his shoulder, his arm, clenching, squeezing, caressing, touching. Just touching every part of Eliot he could reach. Eliot held the back of Q’s neck with one hand while the other made its way down to prep him for Q for more. 

One great thing about being a magician was the ability to conjure up some lubricant with a few flicks of his fingers. And the best part about magical lubricant was that it was never cold. He slid his finger into Q and was rewarded with a deep, quiet moan. Loud enough for Eliot to hear and no one else. Q gave himself up to Eliot, letting himself relax as El worked him open. 

Eliot was so good, so patient, so gentle. He knew just when to add another finger, just how to move his hands to keep it feeling good, just the words to say to help Q stay relaxed. He knew when to pause his fingers and kiss him deeply. He knew when to trail those kisses to other parts of Q’s body, his neck, his cheek, he knew when to bite at Q’s ear and whisper sweet nothings into it.

Q was always lost to Eliot. Lost to his touch and his kiss and his words and his beauty. He loved Eliot’s voice. He loved Eliot.

It wasn’t long before Eliot was setting himself up to push himself into Q. Slow, steady and sure. Q bit his lip again and closed his eyes and moaned in the back of his throat as he took Eliot in. It felt so good. He loved ever moment of it. He loved the feeling of Eliot deep inside, the way he settled and adjusted to the other man’s presence there.

He loved the way Eliot kissed him slowly and sweetly. When the kiss broke, Eliot lifted himself up just enough to look down at Q’s face, watched as the other man’s eyes fluttered open, his lips parted. They smiled at one another and shared a silent moment. Then Eliot began thrusting. Slow and smooth. Starting a rhythm.

Q ran his hands through Eliot’s hair again, this time holding the back of his head. Their mouths were close, but they weren’t kissing. Lips parted, silent gasps and pants falling between them. Q turned his head until his mouth was near Eliot’s. They shared breath and moans as Eliot thrust into Q over and over.

The pace quickened, the tension mounting. While holding himself up with one arm, Eliot brought his free hand between them and began pumping Q’s cock with long fingers. He did his best to keep the pace with his thrusts, to try and bring Q to completion. By now he knew all of Q’s signs. The way his breath started hitching, the way his moans got deeper, more husky. He knew when Q was right on the verge. He always liked to make Q come first, liked to watch him come. He liked the way Q’s whole body tensed up and clenched around him. 

And he did. Q came with a strangled moan between lips pressed tightly together. As he came, Eliot thrust harder and faster, bringing himself to the edge to come moments later. He kissed Q hard to cover his own moan. They both shuddered through their orgasm. The kiss broke then reaffirmed, then turned into a trail of softer, briefer kisses. 

Finally, Eliot sighed heavily and fell onto his side next to Q. They both smiled drunkenly. Q rolled Eliot over onto his back, carefully pulled himself off of El, then resettled against his shoulder. Eliot wrapped his arm around Q’s shoulders and trailed his fingers over his bare skin. Reaching out, Q grabbed a blanket and tugged it over both of them before the night’s chill set in. 

“That was pretty good,” El said lazily.

Q chuckled breathlessly. “Pretty good?”

“Really good?” Eliot said, teasing.

“That’s all?” Q tickled Eliot’s side and Eliot’s stomach fluttered. He wiggled, trying to get away from the tickling. 

“Okay, okay, it was amazing as always, my love.” He touched a finger to Q’s jaw, turning him to face Eliot. He pressed a slow, sweet, and loving kiss to Q’s lips. “Always.”

Q melted into that kiss, then closed his eyes. They would fall asleep in each other’s arms, as they so often did these days.


End file.
